Also… #HrshReyalitee (Short Story)



A Short Story Of Regular. Love.

Once upon a time She met Her.

She had given up on trust so love was irrelevant; but she het her. Her name was Juliet Leflore. Juliet introduced herself with a content smile. “She” replied, “Hello, my name is Aneeda, Aneeda Frasier”.

I’d agree the meet and greet was formal as can be. It was a brisk Saturday morning and they had signed up to work with a neighborhood community service group; they were dressed ready to pull up an old garden and replace the dirt with tons of tulips and roses full of sunshine with a group of teens from the nearby Boys And Girls Club of Brooklyn.

Gardening would be followed by a painting class creating on sand paper canvases with metallic gold, silver and bronze paints; Juliet was the teacher.

One any other day, she was a painter from Harlem raised by two incredible black men. She called them both Dad, her parents were upper middle class Bill Cosby plaid sweater types. Juliet was the youngest of three; though they were all very close in age. There was an older brother, he had married a rich woman and moved to Paris to purse a dream. Juliet’s sister was a one-of-a-kind gorgeous woman of the night. She only drank red wine and was only attracted to the seven figure salary Wall Street types. A lifestyle most would turn a cheek to, yet she is one of he happiest women you’d meet.

Juliet Leflore; face of an intellectual angel standing five feet eight inches tall with long, untamed, curly, satin black hair that makes the sloppy ponytail worthy of being adored, sexy, alluring and so much more. She collected compliments on her hair as a jar would collect rain drops during a thunderstorm, and on a daily bases.

Aneeda Frasier…

Some called her “More proof of Divine Intervention” or whatever that may be. Her eyes were powerful, deep, and if they had been intertwined with the wrong heart; kryptonite.

The only thing she was not afraid to do was smile. Everything else took great courage, Not because of her lack there of, but instead she lived for her guitar pick. Saved up enough money to pay er rent, keep a stocked fridge, and two trips per month of steve madden and made it last. Then quit her job to make her guitar speak, it is indeed – her everything.

She lived a life that would be a synonym for Love but feared the biggest four letter word. It straightened her smile with humility. It was understood and yet ignored with love.

“Well Hello Aneeda, the name is Juliet”
“okay, well it’s nice to met you…” replied Aneeda turning away from Juliet to speak with the two teen girls who interrupted to tell them about the fundraiser for the step team.

“I hope I can donate a little more than what can fit in that jar.” replied Juliet with a smirk and an anxious smile. Then reminded the girls to not be late for the painting after they completed the garden.

Aneeda was standing there completely unaware that Juleit gave her the “Hmm…I think your definiely into chicks but i’m not 100% sure so let’s see” eye.

Then Miss Outgoing Juliet speaks and makes Aneeda drop her gardening kit on her finger, the pain lingered all day.
“Whats your deal” asked miss outgoing.
“I don’t have a deal, and I don’t have feeling in my hand either” said Aneeda with a giggle.

Juliet lauhed as she pulled back those satin strands that made up her crown. Aneeda may not have noticed the “Look” but that hair, she complimented.

She thought to herself how beautiful Juliet was but the buck stopped there of course she dared not go further…





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